Don't Stop Me Now
by mishabel
Summary: Castiel is in an open-relationship with his fiance April. After coming home from one of his endeavors, he finds April with another man. It was fine with him until he realized that this particular man is his already married brother, Gadreel. Castiel is left alone, while April and Gadreel elope. Until one night, as he shut his eyes to sleep, he hears a thump downstairs. Fucksummaries
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Castiel sighed. It was a long night. He was fucked out and tired after his pleasurable escapade. He shifted his head towards the stranger on the bed that was fairly exhausted as him and very much in deep sleep. He glanced at the clock behind his short-term partner; it was already 3 in the morning.

Castiel got up and tried to stand, his legs still shaky after his high almost 30 minutes ago. He dressed haphazardly and walked towards the door, not bothering to look back at the figure in slumber. He didn't need that. No emotional attachments just plain release.

His head was swimming and he was too dizzy, he couldn't wait to go home to his fiancé, and just sleep.

It was unfair, really. The whole situation was unjust. It wasn't the fact that Castiel would go out every few weeks and look for a one-night stand at the bar he frequented. It also wasn't the fact that not all these 'sexcapades' were with women. It was the whole, arranged-marriage fling. Yes, Castiel was to be wedded to a woman just so his father's business can grow. He found it pointless and stupid and menial.

He opened the door and tumbled inside the house. April was most likely asleep now, so he trudged on towards the couch.

Just as he was about to enter the dark living room, he heard a thump upstairs. So, April was still awake. He compromised and went upstairs instead.

Just as he was about to enter the Master's bed room, he heard another bump on the wall. He peeked inside only to find his fiancé with another man having a hardcore make-out scene complete with wall banging and what-not.

Castiel was not angry at all. In all honesty, he was happy that April has a partner too. As long as they keep a straight face in front of the family and 'friends', he was okay with the whole lets-not-hook-up-but-hey-lets-just-have-an-open-relationship shit.

What Castiel was more surprised about and angrier at, was the fact that April was fucking his brother. His already married brother, mind you. And last time he checked, Gadreel was happily married with two kids and a sweetheart of a wife. Now this got Castiel furious. He was not known to be a hypocrite, but when you cheat on someone as nice and loving as Ava, this spurred on Castiel's this-shit-is-going-down attitude.

He barged in the door and was met with two of the most shocked faces he'd ever seen. Thank god, they were still clothed.

April met his eyes and scurried towards the bathroom door. Gadreel on the other hand didn't want to look at him in the face.

"Brother, why would you do this?" He asked, ever so calmly. Gadreel just proceeded to walk past him and mutter a barely audible 'am sorry' to Castiel. And fuck, that just made him snap. What was wrong with his temper today? Castiel spun his brother around and sucker punched him in the face. It wasn't too strong to make him unconscious, but strong enough to make him stumble backwards. "I'm going to ask you again" he said sternly. "Why would you do this?" This caught Gadreel's attention now. His brother, Castiel, was not known to get mad often. So, he straightened his body and looked Castiel in the eyes. "Ava.." he said, "and I just got divorced." He finally said.

After that, Gadreel left without another word.

He knew what was coming next. He was going to be alone tonight and tomorrow and the next day.

April emerged from the bathroom after the house settled down a bit. Castiel looked at her. She was really pretty with her long hair and slender body. She would make the man she loved very happy. Unfortunately for Castiel, it was not him. She scooted beside Castiel on the edge of the bed and laid her head on his shoulders. "you know.." she started. "Me and Gadreel had been friends ever since high school." She ushered on. "Yeah.. I know." Castiel said. "And you also know ... that I love him. And this time, really love him." She spurred on. "I know" Castiel said with half a smile.

April left that day with Castiel's okay signal. He was happy, for once. April and Gadreel was going to elope and he might not see them soon, but he was happy for them. It's been how many years after Gadreel's marriage and he knew April was still devastated, now, nothing was stopping them. He was genuinely happy for the first time in how many months.

He sighed of exhaustion and lay sown in bed. He needed some well-deserved sleep and a re-fill of energy knowing that he had to face his father tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2: Face Time

Chapter 2

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Castiel woke up from his dreamless sleep with a buzzing in his ears. His alarm was distant because of the dialogue running in his head between him and his father. Today was the glorious day that he'll be able to piss the old man off again. _I wonder what he'll throw at me next, _he thought.

So, he got up, dressed, and started the car engine. It's judgement day today.

He entered the gate after security check and drove towards the estate. _This house is too big._

He went in through the front after he parked the car. He proceeded up the wide over-the-top staircase. It's always been a big house. Even when he was little the house made his family drift apart. Well, it wasn't just the house's fault, but either way it was a part of it.

Castiel arrived in front of his father's office and knocked gently.

He heard his father say; "Come in" in his monotone, businessman voice. Castiel obliged and went in stopping just a few steps from the desk. "What is it now, Castiel?" he said gruffly without looking up at him, still focused on his contracts. _Jesus, the old man was always so stiff_. He had his reading glasses on up to his nose bridge and his thin, balding curly hair. He wore a formal suite with black slacks and his eyes are bulging and there're wrinkles around his eyes. He was really getting older by the weeks.

"Hello, father" Castiel started. "I came by to tell you something about my marriage" he ushered on. His father sighed deeply as if this was a conversation they already had over and over again. He put down his pen, leaned back on his chair and looked at Castiel for the first time today through his thin glasses. "What is it?" he asked impatiently and Castiel noticed the rush in his tone.

"Well, you see my dear father, April, my fiancé, has eloped with Gadreel" Castiel said with a clear smirk he couldn't help but put on.

-Next Day—

Castiel was sitting on his table drinking coffee and trying to make a recap of what happened yesterday. It went swimmingly he thought. His father was so pissed when he finally told the news. It was wonderful, really, except for the fact that April has a sister.

After his father clearly shouted swears about disowning Gadreel, he marched on to April's mother, Naomi and bore the news. Naomi was more than happy to forget about April and make the deal work. Apparently, April has a wonderful older sister she never bothered to talk about. Now Castiel was stuck with another marriage. Fucking hell, he was so worn out already. Maybe he should just leave. But he really can't. He promised his mom, he wouldn't.

"Fuuuuck" Castiel grunted. It was a whole other fucking cycle.

He went about the day like the usual and went to work. He needed some release of tension after. Maybe it was time to give the Roadhouse a visit again.


	3. Chapter 3: Eyes and More Eyes

The Roadhouse was as busy as ever. Catiel pushed the dingy door open.

Ah, the smell of broken dreams and overly-intoxicated people looking for a good fuck.

How ever can he not feel at home in this den of iniquity? Just marvelous, the pinnacle of man's existence, really.

He drifted towards the bar and sat himself down. Already he was getting the sticky-eyes from a few guys and gals when he was walking down to the counter. If he's lucky, maybe he'll be able to hook up with someone he's actually interested in.

He tapped at the counter and waited for Jo. "Heya Cas, how you been lately?" she smiled at him all toothy and what not. When Castiel came to the Roadhouse for the first time, he wanted to tap that ass so badly, but eventually he grew a more platonic relationship with Jo, she was more like a sister he never got the chance to have. If anyone were to touch her inappropriately, they'd be leaving this establishment with a broken leg or two.

"All's good, Jo. My dad's raising hell for... how many times has it been now?" He said, gesturing at the implied joke.

"Well, I hope he gets that massive stick out of his ass and let you do what you want for once."

"He's always been a control freak." He shrugs and lets his eyes roll a bit, clearly annoyed.

"Must be hell. Consider this an 'I feel sorry for you, it'll get better' gift; this tabs on me." She said, her tone genuinely filled with empathy. She proceeded to pour Castiel a shot of whiskey and purposefully left the bottle for him. "Thanks Jo." He nodded towards her and she smiles to leave Castiel to his own thoughts and pour drinks for other customers.

Castiel will still probably leave a considerably large amount of tip for this gift. He never liked owing things to people, even if it is something they insist on giving without cost.

Castiel downed his 4th shot of whiskey and started to feel a bit more energized. He gazed around the room, his back turned away from the bar and elbows propping him up. Everyone was feeling light and chatting with one another. Some were just looking at the crowd, trying to look for company.

He was downing his 5th shot of the night when his eyes gazed on a man with very, very green eyes looking at him deeply. He was entranced, his shot glass soon forgotten and his mouth hanging half-way open. He noticed the man shift a little in his seat as he licked his lips. The man's gaze trailed down Castiel's lips and raked over his body.

It was very, very intense.

It was, until another man with dark, black hair cut his view. "I came over... I just wanted to say 'hi'." He said a bit shyly. He has really nice sharp features. Dark, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. He was really built and that smile could just melt the arctic.

When Castiel looked behind for the green-eyed man, he was gone. Oh well.

It wasn't a total loss. He was having the best make-out session he's probably ever had in this guy's car; a Mustang V6 Fastback. Talk about hot cars. He's also smart and funny, in general. Decent job, nice ass, and oh-so-heart-wrenchingly perfect.

This guy was the full package, for a moment, Castiel thought of keeping him. But, haha, no.

Castiel kissed and moaned, and clawed at the warm pressure on his lips; trailing his hands on the man's neck and pulling at his hair. "Oh, god" he barely muttered as the pair of lips began moving down his neck and licking at his nape.

"Fuck, you're so hot", the man practically growled at him.

After three hours (dayum) and clearly stating to the guy that this was only a one time deal, Castiel scurried out of the car, not walking straight at all. Well, he wasn't complaining so... He found his own car and drove home, contented.

He climbed the stairs and stripped all articles of clothing except his grey boxers. He flopped down his bed and let his body sink in the mattress. He sighs happily and drifts off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Silverware

Castiel was just about as comfortable as a prickly hedgehog lying down on a flock of sheep. Ah, so, _very_ comfortable. His mind started blocking out his surroundings and he started to drift off to sleep.

He was probably half asleep already, if not totally asleep, when he heard it.

He knitted his eyebrows, clearly annoyed at the disrupting noise ruining his peace.

Then, he heard it again; a loud clattering sound downstairs, but this time, louder. He forced his eyes opened. _Was he getting robbed?_ This is preposterous. Why would anyone rob him? _Oh_, right, he almost forgot, his father was rich, which makes _him_ rich, okay.

His heart was beating fast now. His eyes, dilated because of the dark, scanned his room for a resourceful weapon. He did not find anything except for his moderately tall lamp, which will do for now. He got up, unplugged the lamp and crept slyly downstairs. Maybe he should call 911? This could be dangerous. Wait a goddamn minute, this could be _dangerous_. This is _perfect_.

He tiptoed down the stairs, ever so carefully looking around for the intruder. He crouched down to minimize his frame and half-crawled towards the kitchen.

When he reached the entry way, he slowly got up, scanning the room. The fridge was opened and there were some of his silver utensils scattered around, some missing too. He tightened his grip on the lamp, anticipating whoever was in the kitchen. But, when he straightened up, he saw no one. Not a soul was in the kitchen. Maybe he had too much to drink? Maybe he was the one who opened the fridge and tripped over the utensils, he was just too hung over to remember it.

He sighed deeply as he closed the fridge as silently as possible, still in self-defense mode. He prowled the staircase after checking all the locks on the doors. He went back to his room and locked it too, just in case. He sighed deeply again before leaving the lamp on his desk and crawled back to bed. He was just tired. That was all.

He tried to sleep. He lay on his back and closed his eyes and tried to focus on nothing.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his mouth and legs pinning his arms to his sides. The other hand was placed firmly on his neck.

He was gasping rapidly for air while the intruder, whom he couldn't really see at the moment, was saying '_shhh_' repeatedly. The heavy weight on him was suffocating, but he adapted to small, raged breaths soon. His legs stopped flailing and he calmed down, a bit.

If he stays calm, he _might_ get out of this unscathed.

* * *

**NOTES:** TO THOSE WHO FOLLOWED THE FIC BEFORE (4 months ago) I owe you big time for updates, and I will update more often, like 'every few days' often. Thank you. Here's a new one. ;)


	5. Chapter 5: Stupid Brain

Hands... grabbing his face, his neck. Fumbling, to keep him from screaming for help. _This was a very, _very_ stupid idea_, Castiel thought. He should have called 911 the moment he heard sounds coming from his kitchen. But _no_, his alcohol induced mind is trying to kill him at the moment.

"I'm gonna let go, okay? But you got to be quiet or else you're gonna have yourself a few scars or two." He warned him, voice ragged and gruff, which made Castiel calm down a bit. He'll be able to breath now and maybe talk some sense into the guy.

Castiel nodded immediately, breathing out his nose hastily.

When the man on top of him let go, he let out a deep breath, gasping for air to get into his lungs. The man still kept him pinned under his legs though, but at least he was a bit more comfortable now.

Castiel told him all the things normal victims would usually say, he was genuinely scared for his life. The intruder might not be alone, so he couldn't fight him off. "Please, I-I'll give you anything you want." He said quietly, as if there was someone down the hall to hear them. Although by now, Castiel did wish April was here to help him.

"I have money. Is that what you want?" The man on him huffed out a puff of warm air, landing on Castiel's cheek. He couldn't help but shiver at the contrasting temperature of the puff of air and the cold room.

"I saw you a while back, you know." He suddenly said, off topic.

The man may not see it in the dark, but Castiel drew his eyebrows together and shifted his head on the pillow, confused at the comment.

"What?" he couldn't help but ask.

Then the man carefully got up from their position, letting his neck go when he was at a safe distance. Castiel propped himself on his elbow, still very much confused at the changing tides. "Wait, what?" he asked again.

Then he heard the intruder totter for something. The next thing he knew, there was a bright burst of light, blinding him momentarily. He put his hand up to his face reflexively, trying to block out the staggering brightness. "Ugh..."

When his eyes grew more accustomed to the change in scenery, he finally saw the man who was trying to rob him. Green, at first, then freckles, then pursed lips, then- dammit, dirty blonde hair. His mind was processing too much. Why would life throw him at the mercy of this hot mess that was his intruder, _who might end up killing him_, his mind courteously added. Something clicked though, he remembered that this was the man he stared at in the Roadhouse. The one with green eyes.

His brain decided to process the most important information last; the dude was pointing a gun at him at point blank range.

Stupid brain.

"It's Dean, by the way." He smiled so innocently, as if he wasn't trying to rob him.

* * *

**NOTE: **Would it be cool if I did a little more fluff and smut few chapters over, and then shift to some (a little bit of) heavy stuff? Y'know, just a thought.

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6: Russian Roulette

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Okay, hold up" Cas said while he scrambled out of the bed, sheets getting tangled around his waist and hands held up, as if to say 'halt'.

Dean still as calm as a lazy cat on a Sunday afternoon, steadily moved his gun following his aim towards Castiel, now standing shakily from the bed.

"O-Okay, you're that guy from the Roadhouse, y-yeah. I remember," He stuttered. "but, I-I don't really understand. Help me out here," he let out a small chuckle at the last sentence, clearly confused and a bit irritated. "Do you want money?" He tried to say as calmly as freaking possible when there's a strange (but in all honesty, _very_ hot) man pointing a gun at you. Okay, maybe thinking that isn't at all very healthy when your about to maybe die. The circumstances are incredibly stressful at the moment. _Focus, Cas, focus_.

Dean bellowed out a low, dark chuckle at the man's attempt to control the situation. Although, that would be quite impossible at the moment. _He's the one with the gun_.

"What's your name?" he asked, again, completely off topic. Cas didn't want to answer, he looked scared. He didn't know Dean and he felt like the more information he gave out, the more vulnerable he will be in the situation. But Castiel Novak was smart. He observed some details that set up red flags immediately.

One: Dean gave him his name. He was sure it wasn't going to be hard to pin point him _if_ he went to authorities because of red flag number two.

Two: He can see Dean's face. No ski masks, no shades, hat and hoodie going on. It won't be hard to identify him, what with his very defining features.

Three: No one else was in the house but Dean and him. It's been 10 minutes of staggering tension and still no back-up? There was really _no_ back-up.

Four: And quite the most important flag of all; Dean's finger was not on the trigger.

Funny thing about Castiel was that he liked to prolong conflict. He got off on the stress of compromising situations. He should actually get that checked.

The shifting atmosphere finally reached Dean and it made him lower his gun just a _few_ millimeters. This was the signal Castiel needed to finally take that control back. _He didn't need a gun._

With in a fraction of a second, he dived and did a forward roll stopping just in front of Dean's feet and quickly grabbed his lower legs, throwing Dean off balance. Dean landed on his back his other hand protecting his head from the cold, hard, floor and the other gripped the gun tightly. Once he re-opened his eyes, a little dizzy with sudden change of position, Castiel was on top of him pinning his whole body on the floor.

"Castiel Novak" he said from out of nowhere. It took Dean a while to remember he asked for his name.

The swift movements and Castiel's sudden hostility made Dean very uncomfortable. He knew that Castiel Novak was not only potentially dangerous but clearly messed up. That notion only grew more factual when Castiel grabbed Dean's hand holding the gun, with both of his hands and pointed the gun up his own goddamn chin. Dean was even more confused.

"You're not really going to pull that trigger, are you, _Dean_." he purred, leaning down forward ever so slowly with each word. He stopped just when their noses were about to touch. The position made it hard to breath for Dean and the tension even more so. His sight was being invaded by a pair of very, breath-taking, blue eyes. For fuck's sake, he couldn't breath even more, if that was even possible.

To make matters worse, Castiel leaned closer than even and stopped just above Dean's parted lips, their breaths exchanging for a few moments. Dean sucked in air because his lungs couldn't take it anymore, he was starting to get dizzy. Eventually, his grip loosened and Castiel used this distraction to gently tug at his hand and mesh his nimble fingers on Dean's to slowly extract the gun. Once that was done, he calmly heaved himself up making sure the gun was at a safe distance from Dean. He definitely did _not _imagine Dean slightly leaning forward when he was standing up.

He walked back to the bed while expertly disassembling the gun. Dean was too shocked at the turn of events.

"What the fuck?" was all he could muster.

Well, fuck, if I was in Dean's predicament, that's probably all I'd be able say too. (talk about breaking that fourth wall, sp)


	7. Chapter 7: Somboday to Love

Dean quickly stood up. He stood up so quickly that he staggered a bit with tunnel vision.

"Well? I answered your question, didn't I?" Castiel calmly said. It was Dean's turn to say, "What?"

"I answered your question. It's your turn now." He started, "Do you want money, Dean?"

"N-No! I mean, yes, but-"

"Good." he simply stated. "What?" Dean uttered with his face cringing a bit, still confused.

"What do you mean _'good'_? What the fuck is _wrong_ with you?"

Castiel chuckled a bit, he sat down at the edge of the bed and put his finger on his chin, as if he was thinking deeply. "You're asking me that, yet you saw me at the Roadhouse, followed me home, and tried to rob me with your face as clear as day" he answered. "I can't seem to grasp the logic in that" he trailed off. There was a pregnant pause. Then it hit Castiel. Maybe it was something else, and sure, maybe Dean didn't understand it himself. The way he looked at Castiel in the Roadhouse, like some hungry lion finally catching a prey, set something off. (And fuck, if that didn't turn him on.)

That's when he decided. It was worth a try; if Dean was crazy enough to do all _that_ then he just might be on board with this.

He stood up from the bed and slowly approached Dean, his eyes squinting, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

"Why are you here Dean?" he asked, each word channeling into one step, until he was close enough to touch Dean. And he kept stepping forward, with each step he took, Dean stepped back. Until finally, there was no more room for him to step back, like a cornered mouse, the cat still stepping forward. "I-It's like you, uh, said... I was gonna rob you" _Jesus, does this guy even know what personal space is?_

"You don't have to, stay right there." Castiel ordered. Dean had half the mind to sprint and leave because this whole fiasco was a big bust, but he was also kind of hopeful. Maybe it was because he was desperate enough to actually steal from someone. He really needed the money now, and sure, he stole before, but only little things like food and that Christmas gift he gave to Sammy. He needed this _for Sam_.

Castiel took quick strides to his closet, anxious that Dean might run off.

He rummaged through his closet and took out a shoe box and walked back towards Dean, who was still pressed against the locked door.

He was smiling, a bit happy to see Dean still there. He was still tense though.

"Here" Castiel said, handing over Dean the box. Dean glanced at the box and then back at Castiel, and then back at the box. "What is it?" he asked while reluctantly getting the box from Castiel, who _probably_ made sure their fingers touched.

Castiel watched Dean as he opened the box slowly, the corner of Castiel's mouth twitching up. "Wh-What? Why?" Dean asked, not believing what was happening right now and what was in the box.

"You can have it. All of it." he stated. It was money. The box was full of money, enough to cover for Sam's 2nd and 3rd years in college. Sam had a scholarship, but it only bestowed them a 50% discount on Sammy's tuition, which meant there was that other half. He felt a tinge of happiness, he will never admit how surreal it is to hold this much money and the relief it gave him. But there was still the man standing in front of him, who gave him the money and the one he tried to rob. _Of course_ there was going to be a catch.

Dean cleared his throat, "What's the catch?" he inquired.

Castiel sighed deeply. "Well, it's very complicated." he started. "I'll start with the, well, the start."

Castiel gestured that he was going to open the door. So, Dean moved aside. Castiel walked out and down the hallway, Dean at his tail.

"I was supposed to get married to someone and this," he gestured to the whole house while going down the stairs. "This enormous house, was supposed to be ours. We were supposed to make babies and go to charities and attend church on Sunday. But, she left me, didn't really work out. It never did" he said. "I'll spare you the details and get to the point, Dean." he said, walking towards the living room. He sat down on one of the couches and nodded towards Dean and the other couch.

"I'm lonely, and- how do I put it. I need someone to live here, with.. me" He said.

Dean coughed at that, choking a little because he was out of breath.


	8. Chapter 8: Gargantuan

Dean threw the suitcase on the mattress and zipped it open.

He had everything in order now.

Shirts- Check.

Pants-Check.

Underwear-Check.

Well, that's all he needed. He can still go back every weekend, like any other job.

He stood and stared at the suitcase for a moment.

_Jesus fuck_, was he really gonna do this? It feels a bit awkward. So, he was just gonna have a housemate, no biggy._ Just gonna have to be there, eat, sleep- well, all in all, just live there. It's like free meals and boarding! This is really convenient then._ He'll keep that fuck ton of money and live in a fancy ass house for free._ Right? Nothing weird there, its just like winning the lottery_. He should be thankful an opportunity like this shined down upon him. _About damn time too._

He put the stuff inside and walked out of his shabby apartment.

He went down the elevator and jogged towards the Impala. She was the only thing he got when Dad died.

Dean's Dad wasn't the best, but he sure wasn't the worst. He was a bit reckless, yes, but he always cared for Sam and Dean. He did everything for them. John went through thick and thin just so he can put food on the table and a roof over their heads. He and Dean were on good terms. Sure, he might've chased Sammy out when he decided to leave the nest and go to college, but Dean understood why he got mad. It was always the three of them against the world, and when Sam left, he too felt abandoned.

But! All that sappy stuff is now out the window. They cried when John died and they loved their Dad, really. Sam went to Stanford Law and Dean helped him out. He told Sam to focus on his studies, and that he'll be the one to work until he graduated. He was proud. Someone ought to be.

Dean snapped out of his thoughts when he saw Castiel Novak's house just a few blocks away now.

He stopped at the gate and got down from his car to press the beeper.

"Uh.. Hey, Cas- Castiel, it's um, Dean. Mind opening the gate?" he said.

A few seconds later there were two consecutive beeping noises and the gate started to open.

He got back to his car and drove up to his house, parking in front of the porch. _Well, this is it, _he sighed deeply.

He went up the porch, still anxious and not really knowing what to expect from all this. Once he got inside the house it was even more impressive at daylight. White walls, modern and classic designs, mahogany floors. This was just too much. Two chandeliers in the massive living room? He feels so out of place, but he knows he should get used to it since he'll be living here from now on.

It's so big and so.. empty too. It's kind of lonely with no one around.

Then he spotted a pile of gaming consoles under the huge plasma TV in the living room. _Nope, not gonna be lonely._

"Castiel?" he called out. Maybe he should call him 'sir'? This _is_ kind of a work place. Nah, he already broke so many boundaries last night.

He went up stairs to the second room, which he knew to be Castiel's. He knocked first before turning the knob and opening the door. Castiel wasn't inside. But he went in anyway. Castiel's room was gigantic. On the right side, he had a closet room with lined clothes and shoes neatly arranged by color, maybe he had some sort of small OCD with colors or something. On the other side of the room was a wall where the headboard of the bed was lined, was the bathroom. Dean went in to check it out. It was freaking big and that was probably the understatement of the year. He closed the door gently and went about the carpeted room.

Feeling a bit tactful, he took off his boots and set it down beside the bed. He tread around the carpeted flooring. Then he saw the balcony and decided to check that one out too. When he went out the balcony, he saw the back yard, which well, wasn't a yard at all, it was more of a colossal garden with a maze and a fountain and holy shit it was just immense.

He scanned the garden with the farthest his eyes can reach when his eyes caught sight of Castiel crouched down and clipping some flowers complete with rubber rain boots, gardening gloves and a white cotton shirt tucked in tan baggy pants. He looked kinda dorky, Dean chuckled.

Castiel started to gather his things and walked towards the house.

Dean scurried back downstairs after putting on his boots. He found his way to the kitchen and just in time, saw Castiel enter the kitchen from the back door.

He was in the process of taking off his gloves when Dean interrupted, "Hey Castiel."

"Hello, Dean."


	9. Chapter 9: Amazing

Chapter song title is from watch?v=m-VKaA8ruf4 .  
CAUSE I KNO ITS AMAZING. How's everyone doing? Fine, I hope.  
Here's an update that I am truly sorry for taking so so long. Thanks for leaving those kudos and yes! Comments! Thank you!  
If you haven't please do leave one below. Fluff and more fluff and cheesy cliche fluff here. *Smut, well, there will be A LOT soon. Next chapters will have that.  
Har, me hearties! Do me eyes see Angst and Sexual Tension coming at arr ship?  
Ye scallywags better prepare, the hard stuffs a-comin' soon!

They stood there for a few more seconds neither one was looking at each other nor tried to break the long silence between them. Castiel fumbled to take his gloves off and shifted his feet closer to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. Dean just stood there not really knowing where to place himself. It took about 3 more minutes with Castiel padding around the kitchen bare-footed after he chucked off his muddy boots to the side and Dean moving about to get out of Castiel's way.

_Ookay, this is just super. And awkward. Super awkward._

Dean cleared his throat to say something, but Castiel beat him to it. "So, Dean." he started with a gravelly tone. Dean perked up at the attention finally being granted to him. The silence was finally- oh so finally- filled! Dean hummed in response. "I was thinking." _Okay, here goes the big catch, _he thinks. Honestly, Dean's thought about it. He may not have finished high school but he's been around a lot of people to know that no one just gives you _that_ much cash and brushes it off like they grow on trees.

"Well, since you'll be staying here. Would you mind- if that's okay with you- would you mind if you could do me small favors?" Dean snorts to himself. _Small favors, ah._

He smiles sarcastically at Castiel, a bit peeved with where the conversation is going. "Depends" he clears his throat mid-sentence, "what kind of favors are we talking about?" He raises one eyebrow and waits for Castiel's reaction.

To be honest, the guy's smart-insane, but smart. Although, it does take a while for the ball to drop on him. Just like a pang, his facial expression wavers a bit from unbelievable surprise to a schooled neutral one. "I wish for coffee when I wake up and for someone to keep my garden watered. That is all." Dean was definitely not expecting that. He puts his weight on his right leg which made him look more awkward now. "Oh."

"I can do that, yeah" totally oblivious to what response to give.

He watched Castiel go about the kitchen. He was making dinner. He even offered to help, but Castiel just shooed him away and told him to _go watch some TV or play some Xbox in the living room._ To which Dean happily complied.

Dean was playing Skyrim when he heard Castiel enter the living room. He was too focused on trying to stick an arrow up a revered dragon's ass outside Whitrun, so he didn't bother looking at him.

"What?!" _Ah, Castiel was talking to someone on the phone._

"What do you mean he-"

...

"That assbutt." _Who the hell uses the word 'assbutt'?_ he snorts.

"Jeez, okay, okay. I'll deal with him tomorrow."

...

"No. No need for that Anna. Wait, how's Balthazar holding up?"

...

"Did he-"

...

"Okay, love you too. Night." _Wait, 'I love you'?_

Dean tried to calculate who this Anna was to Castiel. Friend? Maybe his sister? His girlfriend? Castiel is honest-to-goodness a very, _very_ attractive guy. He's bound to have tons of women and men throw themselves at his feet. There's this strange residual feeling in his gut when he thinks of Castiel _that_ way. Weird. Best to leave it alone, because for now, Castiel had just sat down beside him on the couch which snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yo, here ya go." Castiel said casually as he handed Dean a bowl of some kind of pasta.

Dean paused the game and got the warm bowl from Castiel. They were both sitting Indian style now. "Uh, thanks man." he said, his lips quirking up a bit.

Dean twirled the noodles around the fork. He blew a puff of air to cool it down a bit and then put it in his mouth. He couldn't help the guttural sound that escaped his throat. The guy can cook. He can definitely cook. Oh god, Dean can get used to this. It was so good. Like gourmet restaurant good. "Howey shich." (which is roughly translated into: Holy shit) was all he could say, when he closed his eyes to savor the gold that was in his mouth at the moment. _Damn graceful Dean_. But seriously it was just too good. He kept his eyes closed until he swallowed the helping and breathed in air.

He opened his eyes and said, "Dude-" But was cut short because Castiel had been _staring_ at him intently lips parted with fork in hand, halfway to his mouth.

Castiel seemed to notice the awkward tension in the air and quickly closed his mouth and put his fork down. "How is it, Dean?" he said.

Dean did not fail to notice that. Whatever _that_ was that just happened. Dean shook himself out if it much like what Castiel did.

"Cas, this is amazing."


	10. Chapter 10: Just Got Lucky

The first day without Cas around Dean was at most, enjoying his time. He lived like a bachelor. A _very_ rich bachelor.

He was heating up the pasta Cas made and Dean absolutely loved now. He remembered Cas' first reaction when he said it was amazing. Cas was very uptight and in control all the time. But Dean got to see his soft side slip out a bit. Dude must've been through something to make him have that stick up his butt. But all Cas said was '_Did just call me... Cas?_' Dean did not miss the sudden drop in Cas' voice and how his eyes seamed to gleam a bit or how he suddenly felt like Cas was relieved and at the same time. looked so small. The nickname probably did the trick. And somehow, Dean realized he wanted to see more of this Cas. Not the controlling Castiel, he wanted to see Cas.

So, like any prying person, he just shrugged it off and said that his name was kind of a mouth-full.

At that, Cas straightened his back and focused on eating while Dean played more Skyrim.

Dean took advantage of his situation and grabbed a few beers form the fridge and went back to the living room with bowl and beer at hand.

"Ah." He sighed when he plumped down the couch. "This is the life. I could definitely get used to this." He pulled out his phone to see 3 texts from Sam, his only contact. "Oh, Sammy, if only you could see me now." He said smiling down the gadget.

_Hi, Dean! Sorry, was worried about you, how you holding up? Call or text back will ya._ Sent 2 days ago at 12:30 pm.

_Sorry to bother you Dean, but we gotta pay my tuition soon, I was able to ask for an extension, though. Please call or text me if u can._  
Sent Yesterday at 8:00 pm.

_I can get part-time job if ur having trouble, I really need the money tomorrow, please? And I'm sorry again._  
Sent 5 hours ago.

Dean sighed heavily. _You don't have to say sorry all the time, Sammy _he thought to himself, although he wishes Sam can hear it too. _'I'll meet you Osis beer garden?' At maybe around 2 hours from now._' Well, gotta dress nice.

Ding!  
_Yes! Okay. Thanks, Dean._  
Sent 4 seconds ago.

Dean dressed casually and drove all the way to Stanford. The city was refreshing after all the suburbia. He parked his baby and grabbed the bag; important cargo here.

The smell of fresh grilled cheese burgers wafted through the air. He inhaled all that succulent aroma greedily. Until Sam called out to him raising and waving his right hand for his attention. He's like a giant dog sometimes.

"Hi, Dean? I bet it's good news this time, you're smiling like you just won the lottery!" Sam says resting his arms on the table

Dean sat down and nodded at Sam. He's probably smiling like goof-ball right now, but who cares. He can't help it.

"Wait- did you? Don't tell me you _actually_ won the lottery." Sam goes wide-eyed for a split second, considering the possibility.

"What? No, I didn't." Dean quickly recants. "But I _did_ get a new job."

"Wow, congrats, Dean! That sounds great. But are you sure you don't need me to take some of my load too?" Sam definitely worries too much, it's probably unhealthy.

"Nah, man, with the money I'm riling up, I might even buy us an apartment. And a good one too." he says to his little brother.

Sam stops at that, eying Dean. But, Dean knows he's suspicious, well, of course he is. If he were Sam, and Sam were him, he'd be interrogating like there's no tomorrow.

"So... you sure you're okay, huh. Where's the check?"

"Riiiight, here."

Dean says triumphantly, handing the bag full of money to Sam.

"What the!" Sam exclaims.

"I know, right?"

Sam chuckles, "You couldn't have gotten a check?" After a few moments though, the atmosphere changes.

"Dean." Sam starts, resting the bag on his lap.

"Dean, this is _a lot_ of money. And I'm not about to look at a gift horse on the mouth, but _please_ tell me this new job is legal, at least."

"No, Sam, this is totally safe. Like I said, it's like hitting the lottery jackpot here, man. I got lucky. And about goddamn time too."

"Let's talk this over with some food, yeah?" Dean breaks the oncoming silence. "Sure." Sam says quietly.

After 2 cheese burgers with extra onions later, they were drinking some chilled beer.

"So, Dean, what_ is_ this new job of yours?" Sam inquires, but mostly for the sake of catching up.

"Um, haha... funny you should uh, ask. Actually-" Dean nervously scratches the back of his neck. _Very _UN-_suspicious Dean, _he tells himself. "I'm sort of a personal assistant? For uh, one of the big shots in the business industry. Uh, yeah.I just sort of uh, met him." _Yeah, more like tried to rob him._ "We just kind of got along and I told him about my situation and he just picked me up form there. Hired me and gave me an advanced paycheck." He's never gulped down beer that fast before, right after explaining to Sam. He was sure as hell glad that he made research on Cas before he left, just in case.

"Oh, so, who's the big shot?"

"Uh, his last name's Novak, he's actually the son of-"

"Emmanuel Novak? Like the actual tycoon? Owner of Sucro corp?"

"Uh, yeah. You are such a big nerd." Dean laughs.

"Dude, this is like _really big_. Are you kidding me? His son? _You're_ his personal assistant?" _Kind of_, Dean thinks.

"You got lucky."

"Waaay lucky."

Sam raises his beer bottle, apparently too stomped to interrogate Dean further_ thank god_, and makes a toast "Cheers to that impeccable luck of yours."

"Haha, uh, yeah... luck."


End file.
